


Got the Poison (Maybe We Can Find A Remedy)

by MFLuder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Always Female Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester UST, Established Relationship, F/M, Minor Castiel/Dean Winchester, Protective Siblings, Rimming, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 00:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14842502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MFLuder/pseuds/MFLuder
Summary: An angel places a purification spell on Deanna in an effort to convince her to say yes to Michael.





	Got the Poison (Maybe We Can Find A Remedy)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted September 18, 2010, at [spnrarepairs](https://spnrarepairs.livejournal.com/24188.html) on LJ, written in response to the prompt _\+ in search of a remedy_ for micawbish.
> 
> Taharial is the angel of purification and that helped inspire this story.
> 
> I've always imagined Deanna Winchester as a blonde Amber Heard.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he says, voice tight with worry, as he lays a cool washcloth against Deanna's forehead, making sure his fingers don't touch her, even through the fabric. She's burning up, has been for days, and he can't figure out what exactly is wrong. She's in no shape to help research, but he can barely leave her side before she's crying out in agony again.

Deanna's eyes are feverishly bright, the green iris and black pupils blurring into each other. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips pink and plump not due to make up but because she's been biting them in order to keep the screams in. Her normally golden hair lies lank and dark against the scratchy motel pillow.

He learned the first day this all started that he can't touch her. That's what makes it so much worse. His older sister needs him, needs him in ways she rarely has before and he can't even hold her hand or brush the hair from her face.

He steps back from the bed, picks up the phone, and calls Cas. 

~ ~ ~

Castiel arrives almost instantly when he hears an angel was involved. He appears as calm and collected as usual in manner, but his face shows anger.

“Why did you not call me sooner? You say Deanna has been like this for three days already?”

Sam nods, somewhat miserably. “I figured there'd be an answer in those tomes you gave us on angels. Bobby's been looking for days for some counter-ritual, but hasn't found anything.”

“He wouldn't,” Cas responds, moving closer to the bed where Deanna rests fitfully. “If I'm correct...”

He reaches one hand out and touches Deanna's bare shoulder gently.

Almost instantly, she looks better. She's not as flushed and she doesn't twitch in pain. Her eyes open in confusion.

“Cas?” she asks after a moment of obviously orienting herself. “What's going on?” She struggles to push herself up and Sam watches helplessly as Cas is the one to help her.

“Taharial placed an Enochian spell on you.”

“Yeah, I got that the guy whammied me. I meant more specifically. How come I don't feel as much pain right now?”

Castiel moves so that he's sitting on the bed. He's still on the edge, reaching a hand out, instead of next to her, but he seems to be making himself comfortable. Settling in for the long haul.

“The spell Taharial spoke is one of purity. I suspected from what Sam told me over the phone, but touching you now, I know.”

“Know what?” Deanna questions grumpily.

“That only an angel can touch you. No human, including Sam, can. Any human's touch will send you into pain. Even without direct contact, you remain sick. He wove this spell well.”

Castiel's face clouds over for a moment and Sam's not sure he's ever seen him look quite so unhappy. At least not since the Anna situation.

Sam sits down in the motel chair, resigned for the moment. “The angel, Taharial, he said she needed to be clean. That our 'relationship' was a taint upon her soul. And then some other bullshit about her needing to learn a lesson and that she needed encouragement to say yes to Michael.”

Cas nods. “The spell is designed to wear her down. You cannot touch her. No one can. Eventually, she will have to say yes to Michael. It is the only way I know of to cleanse her. Once Michael has left her body, you would be able to touch her again.”

“Yeah, but he's going to rape my mind in the meantime,” Deanna speaks up. She looks sicker than she did a few minutes ago. 

Castiel glances at her and moves so that his hand encompasses her entire shoulder. Deanna visibly relaxes.

“I believe Michael when he said he would not. However, I still don't think that is the best course of action.”

“Hell, no,” she replies. “That angel isn't getting anywhere near this piece of ass.”

Cas frowns. “I don't believe your ass is what he is after.”

Sam rolls his eyes. Deanna lets out a labored laugh.

“So what do we do? Taharial said he'd be back in a week if she hadn't changed her mind.”

“I must think. A counter-ritual does not come to mind immediately, but perhaps one will when I access the full extent of the spell. I shall have to remain here.”

Deanna shrugs. “Hey, that's fine, Cas. Right now, you sticking around seems like a good idea if it means I can piss without pain.”

Sam makes a face and can't help but note Cas blinks, too, probably the equivalent of Sam's expression for him.

“I'm going to get some sleep now, if you don't mind,” Deanna says and rather quickly falls asleep on Cas' shoulder. Sam can't begrudge her the clearly more restful sleep than she's had in the past few days.

“So we wait?” he asks when he hears the little snores that indicate she's actually out.

“We wait,” Castiel agrees.

Sam wrings his hands, looks down at them, looks at the wall; anywhere but Cas. Then asks, “Is it? I mean, our relationship. Is it some kind of taint on Deanna?” He manages to look the angel in the eye as he finishes.

“What do you believe, Sam?” he responds, but his eyes are kind and his voice soft. Whatever the truth is, Castiel has apparently accepted Sam, finally, and is making no judgment.

They're not entirely best friends forever kind of material, but Cas does help them, and he does care about Deanna. So he bites his tongue when Castiel reaches up to push some damp hair from his sister's face. 

~ ~ ~

Sam doesn't know why Castiel would bring her back, only to have one of his dickish friends do this to her. It's just wrong. Worse than Zachariah taking away their memories. Worse than Gabriel sending them to TV land. Objectively, he knows it's not Castiel's fault. He sees that it is putting a strain on the angel, too. Not in a physical manner, but his eyes are tight and he looks paler than normal. He's worried.

And yeah, Sam can admit it: he's jealous. Jealous as _hell_ that Castiel's touch calms Deanna's pain simply because he's an angel and Sam is not.

Fuck the angels. Fuck them for forcing the issue. For making it so that he can't even touch his sister without her screaming. Fuck Taharial who showed up offering aid and instead cast some sort of purification spell.

They're no closer to finding a solution besides Deanna saying yes to Michael, and it's getting worse. That first day Cas showed up, a hand kept her feeling better. Now they've progressed to the angel having to stretch out beside her, like a lover, and it's driving Sam mad. He leaves the motel every so often to get food – salads for him, ice cream and yogurt for Deanna, nothing for Cas – or to extend their stay, or to walk and breathe fresh air.

But right now he's back in the room, pacing. Castiel told him it wouldn't help, that he was only making his sister worry, but right now, Sam doesn't care what the angel says. It's probably so bad because tomorrow makes a week. Deanna's pain had rocked her body all morning until finally, Castiel had taken off the suit jacket – trench coat discarded several days ago already – and rolled up his sleeves before laying down not quite on top of her, but not really next to her anymore, either.

Even that didn't help enough and so Castiel had asked permission from Deanna to kiss her. Apparently fairy tales weren't wholly inaccurate and a kiss could just solve everything. 

Yes, he's bitter. 

Sam paces some more, seething as he watches Castiel kiss Deanna right in front of him and inside he's screaming _mine!_ while watching Castiel's graceful fingers slide over her face, following the arch of her eyebrows, the sweep of her cheekbones, the curve of her jaw. He should be happy because he sees the tension leave Deanna's body, reacting somehow to the connection of Grace she and Castiel have. She falls into a restful sleep in front of his eyes and yet, all he can see is red, all he knows is a strong desire to punch the angel in the jaw. Deanna wouldn't be happy about him having these kind of thoughts – she's the only one allowed to be proprietary – but she's sick and he doesn't care. He's utterly helpless at the moment and loathing Cas by proxy will have to do for now.

He wants to be the one to kiss the pain away, to make his sister feel good again. She took care of him, all these years, and even last year when she would have had every right to leave him to all the nasty supernatural creatures out there, she always had his back. He betrayed her and yet, she didn't leave. Now, when she needs help, he can't even give it to her.

He sinks down into the chair and picks up the phone to call Bobby. Maybe he's found something in the past two hours.

~ ~ ~

Taharial returns at the end of the week as he promised, absurdly knocking on the door until Sam lets him in. 

“Have you made your decision, Deanna?” he asks, walking right past Sam and ignoring Castiel who is laying beside her.

He is strangely beautiful in comparison to the other angels Sam has met. Castiel said that though angels were not inclined to fall prey to sin, Taharial rode the fence of vanity very closely. He is tall and slender and nearly androgynous, which provides him feminine qualities that only enhance his masculine jaw. His platinum blond hair gives the illusion of a halo when it shines in the sunlight that sneaks through the blinds of the motel room. Unlike the past year and a half with Castiel who has never worn anything other than the trench and suit Jimmy had on the day he said yes, this is the second time Sam has seen Taharial and he's wearing new clothing. Sam wonders if he checked the suit tag, if it would read Armani.

Taharial places a hand upon Deanna's shoulder and instantly, she looks better.

“Get off me, Cas,” she says gruffly and Castiel moves away with a guilty look on his face. Sam can't help it; he smiles. It's been a bitter back and forth. She's grateful for the angel's touch taking away her pain, but she's expressed some severe claustrophobia, too.

She sits up and the only thing that remains of the fever is the fire sparking in her eyes. “Listen to me, you son of a bitch. I won't say yes to Michael or any of you other junk-less winged beings. I'm not letting this world perish for your ideal Stepford paradise. So you and your fucking brothers can get the hell away from me and my family.”

“But Deanna,” Taharial says, voice clipped and polite even as he mocks. “You've already said 'yes' to my brother, here.”

“What are you talking about?” she asks, annoyed. “I haven't consented for him to get all up inside me.”

Sam scrubs at his face with a hand. He doesn't know if his sister means the double entendre – though he wouldn't be surprised – but it makes him want to groan either way. Yeah, this angel's a douche, but something in Sam still wants to respect him and the others.

Taharial's smirk seems to suggest he understood the hidden meaning as well. “You've let him into your life, your mission. You've taken in this fallen angel, no questions asked.” He turns to face Castiel for the first time. “You're lucky I didn't kill you on sight, Castiel. Zachariah so wishes to speak with you. And I hear you and our fallen brother have had a chat. Conversing with the enemy, now, are we?”

Deanna moves so that her body blocks Castiel's. It looks pathetic, even to Sam. “If you want him, you'll have to go through me.”

Taharial smiles and Sam shudders. If he didn't know that Heaven's angels could be as devilish in nature as Hell's demons, he might suggest Taharial and Uriel had more in common than just being angels. 

“It wouldn't be hard. But nonetheless, I will leave your precious angel intact. He's practically powerless, anyway.” He pauses and sits primly down on the bed with a small grimace. “What is your answer, Deanna?”

“No,” she says, heatedly. “I will never say yes to you bastards.”

“Suit yourself.” Taharial shrugs. “I will return in one week and ask for your answer again.”

“Not if you can't find us, you son of a bitch,” Deanna practically hisses at him.

“We shall see.”

The angel stands up and lays a hand on Deanna's head.

“What are you-?” Castiel gets out before his eyes widen in fear.

Taharial presses his hand down and suddenly Deanna's whole body is racked with convulsions. Sam leaps up to help her, but she just screams louder when his hand touches her leg.

“Cas, you've got to do something!” he yells over his sister's cries, instantly yanking his hand away. The sounds tear into him and he moves to intercept the angel who is doing this to her but he merely smiles and blinks out of the room.

“Son of a-!” Sam can't even talk properly, he's so angry right now. 

“Sam, Sam, it's okay!” Deanna says through gritted teeth. “He's gone, it's no use.”

He drops to his knees by the bed, not touching, but wanting to so much. The convulsions have stopped and at least she looks no worse than she did before the angel paid them a visit. Castiel's arm is wrapped around her stomach. The sheets have been pushed down and her tank top pushed up from her movement, but Sam can't be upset that Cas' arm is touching bare skin because it's the only thing keeping the pain away. 

This has got to stop. He needs to put an end to it. He stands up, and begins to pace for the millionth time in the past week.

“Look, you need to become the vessel to an angel for this to go away, right?” His mind is running in circles.

“I already am a vessel, Sam. And I'm not saying yes to Michael. That's exactly what they want,” she gasps, voice strained.

“But what if it didn't have to be Michael?”

“I'm not letting Zachariah inside me, either, if that's what you're thinking.”

“Cas,” he says and his lips twist as he does, but he'll do anything to save his sister, even if it means she houses an angel for awhile. Cas is better than Michael.

Castiel blinks at him. “You want me to take Deanna as a vessel? She was not made for me.”

Sam wonders at the sadness in his eyes. Castiel may be talking doublespeak, but he won't let it throw him. He's not going to feel sorry for the angel.

“But that's the only thing we've come up with, right? Taharial made it so only an angel can touch Deanna in order to force her to say yes to Michael, right? Only after that can she touch me or another human again. But he gave us the answer himself. He said she'd already said yes to you. So, why not?” He turns back to his sister. “Say yes to Cas, Deanna. Then, he zips in, clears the spell, and poof, you're back to yourself.”

“It would be very painful,” Cas says.

Deanna angles her face towards him. They're holding hands, now, resting on her belly, and even though he's the one suggesting she let Cas take her, it makes Sam unhappy to see how comfortable she's gotten around the angel. There's none of the tension that was a few days ago when they figured out Castiel's touch held the illness back.

“How so?” she questions.

“As I said, you were not made for me. Yes, an angel can take anyone who is fit for a vessel as long as they says yes, but there are certain bloodlines that work better than others. It made your ears bleed just to hear my voice. Imagine that, now, inside of you. It would have to be my whole self contained in you to flush out the spell. And I do not know how long it would take to clear it all out.”

Deanna sits up and considers. She's still sweating and her breathing is labored. There isn't enough of a connection between them. Castiel puts his free hand on the nape of her neck when she starts to cough and she calms down again.

“It's the only option we have, right, Sam?”

He nods his head. “Bobby hasn't found anything. Cas doesn't know a counter-ritual. Maybe in a few months we could find something. But right now? It's the only thing I can think of. And we can't let Taharial come back. It's surprising he hasn't led Zachariah to us yet.”

“Deanna,” Cas starts but she cuts him off.

“He's right, Cas. Trust me, I don't like the idea of more pain any more than you do. But even five minutes of excruciating pain? I was in Hell. I can handle that. I can't handle this slow death by angel purity spell crap.”

“There is something else,” Castiel starts slowly. “As you may have guessed, Jimmy is no longer with me. I live in this vessel alone.”

They both stare at him.

“What about Famine?” Sam asks. He leans his hip against the motel desk, crossing his arms across his chest.

“The body has both genetic preferences and traits that have been learned. Those do not vanish, even when the soul does, much as a body still needs to feed, even when the brain has shut down. Famine was able to stir certain impulses I had not realized belonged to this body.”

Deanna tries to smile. “You're telling me you're addicted to cheeseburgers? I mean, I saw Jimmy wolf down a few but I guess I didn't realize.”

“More of a Pavlovian response, probably,” Sam adds. “Jimmy enjoyed them, so when Castiel lost his grip on the vessel, the craving asserted itself. After that, he couldn't get enough because of the feeling it gave him. If he hadn't been an angel, he'd have burst like the Twinkie guy did.”

Castiel shifts almost imperceptibly, but it's enough for Sam to know that means he's feeling uncomfortable. “Yes, though that is a rather disturbing way to phrase it, Sam. My point is, I'm unsure if I will be able to re-enter this body if I leave it.”

“Oh.” Deanna's jaw drops before she catches herself.

“It should not be a problem. I can find a new vessel, though it may take me some time.”

“Who could you take?” Sam's not sure he likes the sound of this.

“I'm afraid I do not know. It would take awhile to find Jimmy's next of kin. His bloodline was the one meant for me and since I promised him I wouldn't take Claire, it would require some searching on my part. In my weakened state, cut off from Heaven as I am, it may take longer.”

“No, then,” Deanna says, a stubborn look on her tired face. “We can't lose you, not now.”

“I fear I am of little use to you as it is,” Castiel says. “I cannot banish demons, I cannot heal you properly. I doubt you would require any assistance I could give in the time it took to find a new vessel. I just wished to inform you that there could be complications. I am willing to do it for you, Deanna.”

Sam seethes at the angel's stare, solely directed at his sister. His curls one hand into a fist, watching the tendons flex as he does to calm himself. “It's got to be done, Deanna. If he doesn't, you'll either stay sick, or you'll give into Michael. There's no other choice.”

She stares between the two of them and Sam wishes he knew what was going through her mind. She's always so selfless, she's probably worried more about Cas than herself. And even though he doesn't want to admit it, he's a little worried, too. And not just because Castiel is an asset. He's the closest thing to a friend they have right now, besides Bobby.

She sighs, looking paler by the minute. “Then, yes. Yes, Cas.”

Castiel stares back at her with that penetrating look of his before he takes her face in his hands. “I apologize in advance, Deanna.” He turns his head towards Sam. “Close your eyes.”

Sam grudgingly does so and once he does, he begins to feel a heat build up in front of him, and the inside of his eyelids grow bright like he's facing the sun and he squints his eyes tighter closed still, eventually putting his hands over them when he finds even that unbearable. He hears nothing until Deanna speaks.

“You can open your eyes now, Sam.”

But it isn't Deanna, exactly. It's definitely Castiel. Her voice is deeper, though not rough like Castiel makes Jimmy's voice.

He opens his eyes and he registers Castiel's possession by the stiffness of her body. His sister's body is perched on the edge of the bed as Castiel has so many times before. Next to her is Jimmy's body, slumped over, blank eyes staring at nothing. It's disconcerting.

“I know this is difficult for you. I will do my best to make it quick.”

Now he hears the strain in her voice, sees the lines of tension around her eyes.

“Is she okay?” he asks, moving forward until he's sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

“She will not let me take total control. She's forcing herself to remain conscious and it's making this harder on both of us. It's more painful for her, harder for me to search out the purity spell my brother placed on her.”

“That's Deanna for you, “ he says weakly, trying to smile.

“Indeed, it is,” Cas agrees with as strained a smile reflected on his sister's lips. “I must admit, this is strange. I put your sister back together, piece by material piece. I held her soul in my hands, left my brand on her at a level deeper than you can imagine. And yet, I have never had such access to her mind.”

Sam stiffens. “You're reading her mind?” Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all.

“Not purposely,” Cas responds. “But I can hear her screams and her anger at me and Taharial for making her do this.” He pauses. “She cares for you more than you can ever known.”

“I know,” Sam replies, softly. “I take her for granted, but I know.”

Deanna's body trembles and Castiel's straight back crumples until he's clutching at the bedspread, one hand held out to Sam keeping Sam's hand from closing on his sister and the angel inside her. “Do not. Touch. Me,” the angel pants. “I'm sorry, but I haven't finished and it would only hurt her more.”

Sam flails a little, trying to keep from reaching for his sister, before he pulls his arms back into his own space.

Another minute ticks by like a thousand years before Castiel gasps and speaks up again. 

“I have rid her body of the purification spell. I will now vacate her as my vessel. Close your eyes again, Sam.”

Sam does so and this time turns his head as the light intensifies behind his eyes. He waits a full minute or so after the light fades, but when no one speaks, he cracks an eye open. Nothing. He turns and gazes on the two bodies now lying on the bed. Deanna appears to be breathing regularly for the first time in over a week. Her cheeks are no longer flushed, and while her hair is stuck to her forehead, it doesn't look as dull as it had. He reaches out to touch her, but then pulls back, deciding to wait until Cas gives him the go ahead.

Castiel, who may or may not be there. Jimmy's eyes have slipped shut, and he isn't breathing, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. Castiel might have closed his eyes before leaving Deanna. And Castiel doesn't need to breathe. Neither sign determines if Castiel is alive in Jimmy or not.

He waits a full five minutes, pacing across the floor, looking worriedly at both his sister and the angel on the bed before anything happens. Finally, Jimmy's eyes open and Castiel stares back at Sam. It isn't a startling awakening, no dramatic rise from the bed or gasp like in the movies, but it was obvious that one minute Castiel was either absent or asleep and the next, he was very much alive and present.

His first move is to turn and bring Deanna's face closer to himself. It looks so intimate, both of them stretched out on the bed, nearly twined around each other, that Sam has to look away.

Castiel clears his voice and Sam turns back to find him standing aside the bed rather laying on it.

“She will be fine, Sam. She is alive and well. Her mind remains intact; I made sure of it. Though I cannot guess how much of my time using her as a vessel she will remember.” He pauses. “I hope for her sake she doesn't remember any of it. I do not wish to be associated with the level of pain Hell gave her.”

Sam nods. He understands. 

“You can touch her now, Sam,” he says, and Sam shoots him an appreciative glance. “I will take my leave.”

Before Sam can even thank him, Castiel is gone.

He creeps toward the bed before lying down in the spot Castiel has maintained for several days, so much so, that Sam would swear there is an indent shaped like his body that Sam's body obliterates when he wraps his arm around Deanna's slender body, tugging her close to him. She doesn't flinch, she doesn't scream, and she doesn't even wake. She just snuggles into him in a way she didn't with Cas and in a way she'd never admit awake to doing. It leaves a smile on his face and for the first time in too many days, he buries his face in her hair and falls asleep beside her.

~ ~ ~

Sam wakes to a swat on his rear with a towel and opens his eyes to the glorious sight of a naked, smiling Deanna in front of him.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!” she says and he swears, she can call him that every day of their lives if it means nothing like Taharial will happen again. He knows it's unlikely – both that it will never happen again and that someone's listening – but he sends up a brief prayer of thanks.

He makes a big show of grumbling and readjusting his pillow just to see her roll her eyes and he doesn't even mind when she yanks the pillow out from under his head.

He sits up and damn, she smells good. Clean, fresh, not at all like she's been sick for so long. She's grinning like a loon and the flush on her cheeks is from the heat of a shower and not a fever. God, he hasn't touched her in so long. Desires rushes through him, making him grip the bed.

Her honey-wheat colored hair curls in wet strands across her shoulders as she digs in her bag, pert ass practically begging him to fuck it. He groans before telling his dick to calm the hell down. There's some things he needs to understand before he gives in.

“Deanna.”

“Oh, don't tell me you want to _talk_ ,” she says drawing the last word out in a near-whine. “I'm fine. Cas is obviously fine considering we're not having to dig a pit for Jimmy's body. You can touch me and I'm not sick. Let's call it a day and find a hunt. I'm bored as hell.”

Well, yeah, okay, she does seem to be her ever-snarky self. But still he holds back. 

“Do you remember...I mean, when Cas...?”

Deanna sighs and turns towards him. She places one hand on her hip and fuck if that pose doesn't emphasize her curves. It makes him want to bury his face right in between her legs. It's wrong, so wrong, it's always been wrong, but he can't help the compulsion. Taharial hadn't been wrong about how sick their relationship was. But who was an angel determined to force the apocalypse to judge the content of their relationship? Castiel wasn't blind; he surely knew, and Sam even suspected had mentioned it to Deanna, but at the end of the day, if he judged Sam for more than the demon blood, he kept it to himself.

“Not really, Sam. Bits and pieces. I remember pain, but it's like when you fall when you're drunk. You recognize pain, but you can't really feel it. And I could hear you both, you know. Cas didn't try to read my mind. He might have seen some things I'd have preferred him not to know, but he didn't invade my privacy. If I hadn't fought him, he wouldn't have known anything at all. So stop worrying your pretty little head,” she chastises and fluffs his hair. “You need a shower. You reek.”

She's teasing and Sam knows it. It's why she's parading around in the buff. She's missed his touch, too, and that should make him happier than it does, but it shouldn't have had to happen in the first place. No more churches. Or mosques. Or brick buildings that look like they might belong to Mormons or Jehovah's Witnesses. He might make Deanna dye her hair if they're going to keep being ratted out to angels like this.

Instead of taking her advice to shower, he gets to his feet in one fluid movement, grabbing Deanna about the waist and hoisting her up against the wall. She's pinned there and suddenly breathing heavy, pupils dilating. 

“Missed me, Sammy?” she mocks, before wrapping her legs around his waist, seeming to not care that his jeans zipper is digging into her bare crotch.

She tilts his head for better access and their mouths meet, tongues tangling in a brutal manner. He can't get enough. She tastes of minty toothpaste. He licks at her soft palate, her teeth; he bites at her lips. It feels more like years since they've touched, made worse because she was right there in front of him. It was different when she was dead. It had hurt then, too, but in a different way.

He slides his hands around to grab at her ass. He's still fully dressed, wearing the same clothes from yesterday. The thought makes him grind his pelvis into the vee of her legs, not caring if the fabric of his pants makes her chafe tomorrow. He wants her to feel every inch of what his body needs from her.

But there's still something he needs to know. 

“What about Cas?” he breathes against her mouth.

She doesn't stop what she's doing; her legs are still tight about his waist, her lips kiss and her tongue licks at his neck as she answers. “What about him?”

Sam growls in his throat and pins her arms to the wall so that she can't reach him. He gazes at her; a challenge. She tries to free herself for a moment and he smirks. “Have you two had sex? Taharial said you said 'yes' to him.”

“Sam,” she admonishes, even as she struggles in his grasp. “He's an angel. He doesn't have sex.”

“Do you want to?” he asks, leaning in so he can suck at the tender skin of her neck. Claiming what is his.

“Do I find him attractive? Yeah, Sam, if it'll make you feel better, I do. So what?”

“I saw you two getting cozy, right in front of me.”

“I was sick! You couldn't touch me; he made it a little better. But I didn't jump his bones whenever you left the room.”

Sam grinds his hips into Deanna's, making her gasp with pleasure. “His cock won't be near as big as mine, you know.”

She moans and tries to make it so that his dick rubs where she wants it and not against her inner thigh. He grips her wrists tighter and doesn't allow it. Finally, he asks the question he's most dreading the answer to.

“Do you love him?”

“Who, Cas?” she asks, blinking owlishly at him. But she's gone still in his arms, like she's finally taking this seriously. “What in the world are you talking about? Are you going to fuck me or just tease me all day?”

She doesn't answer the question, but he knows. She couldn't look at him and if she didn't feel something for the angel – even if it isn't love – she'd have told him he was an idiot. It's what she's done forever. He didn't know Cassie when they were dating, but he suspects Deanna wouldn't have been able to look at him then, either.

“Sam,” her voice is quiet, almost soft. She waits until he looks into her eyes. She's smiling. “I love you, you moron. You're my brother. This,” her hand tries to wave in his grip before flopping back against the wall, “is just part of our, what did Taharial call it? Our codependency. Our impurity. I'm not letting an angel get in between that. None of them,” she emphasizes.

It's not quite what he wants, but it's good enough for now.

He releases Deanna's hands and they immediately sink into his hair, yanking him towards her so that she can kiss him. With his hands free, he adjusts her hips and legs about him so he can get access to her pussy. He trails his thumb down her outer lips, feels her quiver against him. His other hand encompasses her hip, holding her tight against the wall, stroking her soft skin with his fingertips.

She moans as his fingers push inside her, savage and rough. He feels her squeeze around him, her body's reaction to his sudden intrusion, but then she's relaxing and he can push in further. 

He brings her to orgasm once before he undoes the button of his pants, sliding down the zipper so that the only sounds in the room are their panting breath and the noise the metal makes. It adds intensity to the scene. Deanna knows what comes next, but she's never quite ready. He slips the condom on with one hand, years of practice making this easy, years of situations like this making him keep one always in his back pocket, and slides into her. She gasps loudly, her head tossing back to make a thud against the wall. Her hair is mostly dry by now and it sweeps off her shoulders, falling down her back. He moves a hand up from her buttocks to grasp it in his hand, keeping her head yanked back as he fucks her. It's rough and dirty and she's so fucking wet, he hardly knows how he keeps himself from coming in her hot, tight cunt.

She comes a second time and as she does, he carts her from the supporting wall – legs still wrapped around him as shudders pass over her body – and quite literally tosses her on the bed, her hips bouncing up from the mattress before she settles.

“Sam,” she moans, voice low and deep and it reminds him of Castiel inside her, speaking through her, and strangely, that makes him hotter.

“You like that?” he says, his own voice gruff. “Like me throwing you around like a doll? Like you're just my toy to play with?”

He flips her over in a quick movement so that her ass is pointing up in the air even as she tries to rut on the bed. He thrusts his dick between her cheeks, reveling in the hitch of her breath as he does. He can't help but smirk smugly. He leans down, caressing one hand over Deanna's ass, before smacking it playfully. From above, he hears a cut-off moan.

He sinks further down the bed, until he has her ass in his face. He uses his thumbs to separate her cheeks and brings himself in closer, giving her an experimental lick. Her entire body jerks in his hands and she let's out a less-than-dignified muted squawk.

“What are you...Sam, what are you doing?” 

She's staring back at him over her shoulder, eyes questioning and a strip of color across her nose and cheeks giving away her embarrassment.

“I'm going to cover every inch of you today. Get in every little part of you I can find. Cas got to be inside you; now it's my turn. And it's going to be a whole lot more fun.”

He grins and returns to his task. Her keeps her cheeks spread and presses his face forward until he's licking at her rim. He dips his tongue inside and feels the muscles quiver around him. It's a heady feeling. He thrusts his tongue in and out until Deanna is practically a gibbering mess of please and yes, and need, and Sammy. He backs away regrettably. Her hole is looser now, and shining with spit. He thinks later he'll fuck her that way, too.

For now, he gets back onto his knees, giving his cock a few quick pulls to get it completely hard again and then slams right into her. Deanna's back arches further and she's grabbing at the pillows up top, at the headboard and calling out his name.

He fucks her rough and quick, his orgasm building in the base of his spine as he watches her shove herself back on his cock. He reaches down and manhandles her up so that she's on her knees as well, ass pressed into his crotch, and her back pressed against his chest. She lets her head fall back on his shoulder, her mouth dropping open further with each thrust he makes. He keeps her in place by playing with her breasts, squeezing the nipples for just the right amount of pain to mix with the pleasure.

“Such a kinky bitch, Sammy,” she gasps out, eyes closing as she does.

Sam doesn't respond, just bites at the line of her neck she's so easily showing to him and one hand dips down between her legs. His hand is instantly soaked and he thinks that he could slide his fingers right in with his dick and it'd be so easy. He lets them trail across the area where her pussy parts for his cock and her breath catches in her throat. One arm slides around to grip his ass.

“Sam, I swear to God, if you don't let me come right the fuck now, I'm gonna make you wax my car. Naked. Up north where it's ten degrees right now.”

Idle threat, but he gives in, using his fingers to bring her off quickly and in the process, he comes as well, her muscles fluttering around him.

They both collapse on the bed. He pulls the condom off, ties it up and tosses it in the bedside trashcan. Deanna's breathing heavily next to him, one knee pulled up. If he hadn't just come, she'd make an enticing temptation.

Instead, her just pulls her close, threading one hand in her hair, placing the other on her belly, and caressing it as she comes down. He's grateful he can touch her again. That she was writhing in pleasure and not pain in his arms a moment ago. They've only just gotten back to being brother and sister again, only just re-found their footing with this aspect of their relationship after a whole year of dealing with seals and his obsession with Ruby.

“Okay,” she says. “Just another minute. Then I'll get up. I'm itching to hunt, Sammy.”

He smiles into her hairline. He suspects by the time she's ready to move, he'll be ready for another round and it seems unlikely they'll get out of bed today. But he is ready to move, to feel useful in the time left before the apocalypse descends full-force on their heads. He idly wonders how Cas is coming with his God search. He never mentions it.

Whatever happens next, though, they'll be together, figuring it out. Them, Cas, and Bobby. Team free will, hadn't Deanna said?

Deanna opens her mouth, probably to protest lying in bed, but Sam just turns her face to his and kisses her. Sometimes, they deserve a day off.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow and chat with me [on tumblr](http://mf-luder-xf.tumblr.com)!


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